Art of Concentration

In her exitement, Emily overlooked one little roadblock: how to actually contact Chris. Her face fell.
Ed noticed. “Now what? Don’t know how to contact dear Chris?” he sneered. It’s like he read my mind, she thought. I’m gonna have to be more careful.
“Yes you will,” he said with a crooked, knowing smile. Okay, that was just freaky.
Wait a minute…
“I wonder…” Emily murmured to herself. “Maybe, just maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“If I can be a figment of my own imagination, maybe I could be a figment of Chris’ imagination!” Her face shown with exitement.
Ed was flabberghasted. “Do you really believe the guy who’s, technically, responsible for this whole mess would believe some figment of someone else’s imagination?!”
“You have any better ideas?” Ed fell silent. “This is all we got right now, so we’re going to have to give it a shot.”
Emily sat on the floor, crosslegged, and began to focus… focus… focus…

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